


frankly, my dear

by LydiaOfNarnia



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Movie Quotation(s), Play Fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 02:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11370792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/LydiaOfNarnia
Summary: “Are we seriously doing movie quotes – oww! Jesus!” Skip bowls Don over again, knocking the giant pillow from his grip. Victorious, he begins to wallop him again, trading his pillow for Don’s own weapon. It turns out to be much more effective, and a lot more fun.“There’s no crying in baseball, Malark!”(written for the Tumblr prompt“I came here to kick ass and chew gum.. and I’m all out of gum.”)





	frankly, my dear

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, the characters in this fic are based off of their fictional portrayals from the miniseries Band of Brothers, and I mean no disrespect to the real-life veterans!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [renelemaires](http://renelemaires.tumblr.com/)!

Skip falls over the edge of a couch as a pillow nails him in the back of the head.

“K.O!” Don hollers. When Skip pokes his head back up, his best friend has both arms in the air, beaming in shameless victory. Admittedly, Skip shouldn’t have let his guard down, but Don’s sheer glee is an even lower blow than hitting him while his back was turned.

Indignant, he seizes the pillow from the ground and hauls himself back into the couch. “Oh, is that how you want to play?” he demands. Don’s unflinching grin is answer enough. Narrowing his eyes, Skip draws himself up and readies himself for battle. “Okay. Fine. Fasten your seatbelt, Malark, cuz it’s gonna be a bumpy night!”

His words have the desired effect. Smugness fades from Don’s face, replaced by confusion. “Did you seriously just quote Bette Davis to me?” he asks – and his bafflement leaves Skip the perfect opening to nail him across the face. Don goes down like a Jenga tower, hitting the side of the couch and nearly bouncing to the ground before he catches himself. Skip is on him before he can recover, raining merciless blows onto his friend’s head. “You’ve never even seen that movie!” Don hollers over his attempts to defend himself.

“Bette Davis – was a goddess –” Skip lets out a yelp as Don bucks beneath him, sending them both tumbling over the side of the couch. While Skip narrowly avoids hitting his head on the coffee table, Don scrambles to his feet.

By the time Skip has his bearings again, Don has taken refuge behind the couch, and is wielding one of the massive couch cushions with a frenzied look in his eyes. Skip glances from Don’s huge cushion to the small throw pillow he holds, weighs his odds, and decides he’ll go down fighting anyway. “Oh, go ahead, make my day!” he bellows, launching himself over the couch before Don can make the first move.

“Are we _seriously_ doing movie quotes – oww! Jesus!” Skip bowls Don over again, knocking the giant pillow from his grip. Victorious, he begins to wallop him again, trading his pillow for Don’s own weapon. It turns out to be much more effective, and a lot more fun.

“There’s no crying in baseball, Malark!” he crows over Don’s exclamations of pain. His friend hollers something offensive back, and Skip presses the pillow over his face.

He doesn’t count on leaving his abdomen open. A knee to the gut sends him doubling to the side, letting Don squirm out from under him. As the other man scrambles to his feet, Skip grunts in frustration and tries to make it to the nearest pillow. Just as he is about to reach it, it is kicked out of his grasp.

Things look grim. Don towers over him, smug once more, with his massive pillow in hand. He lands a few solid hits before Skip is able to find refuge behind the couch. Unarmed save for a tiny throw pillow, he’ll admit that he doesn’t know how he’ll get out of this one.

Let it never be said he gave up easily. Just as Don has him cornered, he leaps up; before his best friend can process what is happening, Skip rushes him with a war bellow straight from Braveheart.

“Hasta la vista, baby!” he cries as he knocks Don backwards over the couch. The other man goes down with a grunt, landing heavily on his back. Victorious, Skip pins him in place with his knees and straddles him, pillow raises high over his own head. Don recognizes defeat when it is about to crash down on him. His eyes widen; his jaw goes tense as he braces himself, fighting the urge to cringe away.

“I came here to kick ass and chew bubblegum…” Skip announces gravely, waiting for Don’s eyes to screw up before he slowly lowers the pillow to the floor. “And I’m all out of bubblegum.”

Instead of the pillow to the face he was expecting, Don is surprised by the full weight of Skip suddenly collapsing on top of him. He grunts, taken aback, but his arms come up to wrap around Skip’s waist anyway as his best friend sandwiches himself on top of him, beaming like he’s won an Olympic medal instead of a pillow fight.

“Sure,” Don mutters, smirking back up at him, “but you’re still an ass.”

“A very _nice_ ass,” Skip retorts, and Don hums in agreement.

“You wanna get off me?”

“Nah.” Skip settles his chin on Don’s shoulder, nestling close to his friend. Don wiggles, adjusting his position until he is properly lying on the couch, instead of being pinned by the body on top of him. This is just fine with Skip, who nestles closer and huffs against the side of Don’s neck. “You’re comfortable. Very soft. Like a teddy bear.” And after a beat: "This _does_ mean I won, by the way.“

Don snorts, but instead of arguing he just lifts a hand to run it through Skip’s silky hair. “Here’s looking at you, kid,” he mutters, and Skip grins against his collarbone.


End file.
